"We haven't got any," answered the prisoner. "How do you expect to get over the river when you go back?" "Oh," said the Yankee, "we are not going back. Grant says that all the men he sends back can cross on a log." JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS Guvener B. is a sensible man; He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks; He draws his furrer ez straight ez he can, An' into nobody's tater-patch pokes; But John P. Robinson he Sez he wun't vote fer Guvener B. My! ain't it terrible? Wut shall we du? We can't never choose him o' course--thet's flat; Guess we shall hev to come round (don't you?) An' go in fer thunder an' guns, an' all that; Fer John P. Robinson he Sez he wun't vote for Guvener B. Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man: He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf; But consistency still wuz a part of his plan---- He's ben true to _one_ party--an' thet is himself; So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote for Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war; He don't vally principle more'n an old cud; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an' blood? So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village, With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut ain't, We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an pillage, An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint; But John P. Robinson he Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee. The side of our country must ollers be took, An' President Polk, you know, _he_ is our country. An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book Puts the _debit_ to him, an' to us the _per contry_; An' John P. Robinson he Sez this is his view o' the things to a T. Parson Wilbur he calls all these argimunts lies; Sez they're nothin' on airth but jest _fee, faw, fum_: An' thet all this big talk of our destinies Is half on it ign'ance an' t'other half rum; But John P. Robinson he Sez it ain't no sech thing; an', of course, so must we. Parson Wilbur sez _he_ never heerd in his life Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats, An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife, To git some on 'em office, and some on 'em votes; But John P. Robinson he Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee. Wal, it's a marcy we've gut folks to tell us The rights an' the wrongs o' these matters, I vow---- God sends country lawyers, an' other wise fellers, To start the world's team w'en it gits in a slough; Fer John P. Robinson he Sez the world'll go right, ef he hollers out Gee! * * * * *